A whole new life
by miss de Villers
Summary: When Pam meets a gentleman on the streets, she can't imagine that he would change her life, and, most importantly, that she would beg for it. But when she does, and Eric turns her, Pam discovers that a whole new life awaits her. The building of Eric/Pam relationship. Rated M for smut.
1. Butterflies and hurricanes

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own this characters. Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris do. I owe nothing_.

**A/N:** Hello everyone! This is not my first fanfiction story ever, howether it's the first True Blood story, and the first one in English. I apologize to you for all mistakes I've done (there probably are a lot), because English is not my first language. Please, rewiew.

**Chapter One**

**Butterflies and hurricanes**

It was past midnight. I was walking to my home from one of my girls I went to visit. She became pregnant and had to quit the business for a while. Absorbed in my own thoughts, I didn't notice anything, but now that I was paying attention I heard footsteps. Someone was following me. I decided to turn around. Another woman would have tried to deny it, to walk further, believing that if she pretended that everything is fine, it will be. Another woman, but not me. What's the point in hiding from the danger? You'll have to face it, sooner or later. So why not right now?

I turned around as fast as I could.

"May I help you?" – I said, sounding confidently.

"You are… Quite lovely". – responded the man in front of me. He was clad in a black suit and a cloak, as ast every man in San Francisco. I couldn't see his face because of the dark, but somehow I knew he must be in his later thirties.

"I'm off the clock." – I said, - "come by tomorrow. We open at eight." – With these words I turned around, preparing to leave. I was caught off guard, however, when the man took me by throat, slamming me hard against the wall. I shouted from fear, and my mind was racing, trying to find any exit from this horrible situation.

"That's right, whore." – said the rapist, taking a long knife out of somewhere, and putting it to my neck – "I like it when you struggle!"

I don't know how, but I stopped struggling the very moment I heard that it brings him satisfaction. If I had to die, I will die. But not to his great pleasure.

But then something happened, something that, even if I didn't know it then, had changed my future. In a flash, even quicker than my eyes could follow, the image before my eyes changed. The rapist was lying on the asphalt, blood dripping like a river from his neck. After 2 seconds or so, he wasn't moving anymore. He was dead.

I took my eyes off him and landed them on my savior. He was a tall man, with wide shoulders, wearing a black suit. His blond hair was tousled a little, the color almost the same as mine. He was handsome. He certainly was, but it was not this that drew me to him.

I watched mesmerized as he brought his hand to his mouth, took his big finger in and sucked the blood from it, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he did so. I shivered, trying to convince myself it was from fear, but of course I was more than aware that it was not.

There was something about him that was raising this in me – maybe his composure, or the way he stood there, so confident of himself… or maybe the fact that him sucking blood from his finger was the most erotic thing I ever saw.

I felt dampness pooling between my things, something that, ironically, due to my profession, wasn't something I felt very often.

I didn't notice the moment he stopped, but he did. He was turning his gaze to me as he said, almost for himself: "You're not afraid". The tone of his voice clanged surprised, intrigued, calm, smooth, and so fucking sexy!

"I'm no stranger to dead bodies" – I replied. Seeing my girls die one by one, being… drained of blood by someone, had made me pretty accustomed to death, and dead bodies.

"The streets can be dangerous at this hour" – he went on explaining, like a father would with his little daughter, as he was cleaning the rest of his fingers with a kerchief. – "A lady should really be more careful"

"If I meet a lady I'll let her know" – I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. This apparently made him smile, the corners of his mouth just barely going up.

He made a pair of steps, approaching me, now only inches separating us. I was slightly uncomfortable near this stranger. He was making me feel something I never felt before. Yet, strangely, I wanted this moment to never end.

"That… is a… lovely dress…" – he said slowly, almost "tasting" every word, as if this was not something he sad often, and I gasped, feeling the need for air. His eyes roamed my body, from my eyes to my neck, breasts and waist, then back to my eyes. His voice became huskier, rougher somehow. "I'm sorry about all the blood"

I tried to say "It's fine", surprised to see that my own voice did sound just as husky as his.

"This should cover it." – he said, giving me some money.

"Thank you, mister…" that's when I realized that I didn't even know his name. I stopped, waiting for him to present himself, but he just smirked mysteriously, and disappeared in the darkness, at a speed too high for my eyes to follow.


	2. Undisclosed desires

**Disclaimer: **_I don't owe the characters. I'm just playing with them a little... :)_

**A/N: **So, this is the second chapter. Hope you like it, guys.

**Chapter Two**

**Undisclosed desires**

I thought, I would never see him again. There were moments when I even thought that it wasn't real. Only a dream. But it wasn't a dream, as it appeared. It wasn't, because he was here. Again.

He was as beautiful as I remembered him, even more so in the dim light of the room we were standing in. He stayed there, ever so confident, an amused smile on his face, as I looked at him standing in the doorframe, remembering the dialog we had earlier in the evening.

- "We have something to satisfy even the most… _exotic_ fancies." – I said, and he looked at me as if I was lecturing a lesson in a university, and not talking about sexual fancies. – "The chink. We call her Rubber Ruby." – I addressed to the girl then. – "Show the gentleman why, would you, darling?"

She stepped in front of the others, and did what she was used to, showing her flexibility. I looked at the mister, and could tell he wasn't very impressed.

- "Mmm… Delightful" – he said, his voice plain, void of any surprise. – "But it is you I came to see." – he added, dropping his voice a little lower.

All girls fell silent, and began whispering about the handsome gentleman who came to see their Madam. I, myself, couldn't deny that the thought of him and me was exiting me, but…

- "A good merchant doesn't compete with his merchandise, sir." – I said. He came closer, looked me in the eye, and I knew then and there that I couldn't deny him anything. I was lost in his eyes, the color of the ocean. It was as if I was… drawn to him… If his merely presence was affecting me like this, what would the sex with him be like? I was, however, distracted from my thoughts, as he leaned even closer, whispering to me as if he was telling a big secret.

- "And a good customer knows everything has its price." – I shivered at the tone of his voice, a tone that oozed sin and pleasure.

He knew his appearance was making it hard for women to refuse him, and he was taking advantage of this. Yet, only a fool would not. His composure screamed at me: this is the kind of man that has women throwing themselves at his feet. This is the kind of man that always knows what he wants, and, most importantly, the kind of man that always gets it. He knew he would get me, and I knew it as well.

So what price did I have? I certainly needed money, but I could not, and _would_ not, require money from him. It seemed to me that it would… cheapen me, somehow. I doubt that the words he said, _"a good customer knows everything has its price",_ were about any amount of money. The meaning was far deeper. It implied that he would do anything I tell him, pay any price to get me.

My mind was racing. I remembered the speed he was moving at, that night when I met him for the first time. I remembered the way he killed my attacker, a way that a human will certainly not use. I remembered the way he licked his fingers clean of blood, and that made me shiver, as another image flooded my mind. A female body, white from the blood loss, lying on the sheets, no longer white, but soaked with blood.

Could that be true? Then everything people believed in was bullshit? And Bram Stocker was not a madman, but one who knew the truth, unlike the others? It wasn't difficult to put two and two together to understand that he was the same… race as those who killed the girls. And I was just given a chance to save the others...

I'd made my mind, and told him that I'll grant him my time if he'd get rid of the creatures that were killing my girls. He was a bit surprised that I announced this price. Of course he knew I wouldn't want money, but I guess he didn't expect this, either.

So, here I was, standing in the doorframe, with him in the opposite part of the room, looking at me, his posture almost casual, full of pride and confidence. He doesn't say anything, just starts walking toward me, covering the whole distance in three huge steps. His pace is graceful like a predator's, and his hands come to my face as he cups my cheeks, and places a hard hiss on my mouth, his tongue begging for entrance.

I open to him, and his tongue enters me, exploring every part of my mouth. One of his hands embraces my waist, and he rolls me to the bedroom. I feel a little dizzy, and my heart is beating like crazy. God! The man knows how to kiss! I wonder how he can make a kiss gentle, rough and passionate at the same time. In the meantime, he stops the kiss because I need a breath of air and it's my chance to calm down.

Why am I feeling nervous? Like I was a virgin or I actually had any reason to feel nervous. I've done this a lot of times before, for money and not, and I've never been nervous, embarrassed or ashamed of anything. Why starting now?

- "So, mister…"

- "Northman" – he ends, finally introducing himself. – "Eric Northman."

- "My pleasure, mister Northman." – Even his name oozed power. – "My name is Pamela."

- "Your name is beautiful. As is everything you've got."

That made me blush and I guess he liked it, because he smiled a little. I decided to return to the question I wanted to ask.

- "Mister Northman." – I lifted my eyes trying to look in his one, only to see two pools of blue, the color darker than earlier in the evening. It used to be blue like the still Arctic Ocean. Now it was like the raging ocean. So cold and devastating… and yet, full of fire. It gave me confidence. – "What would you like me to do?" – I asked, my voice sounding harsh. His answer was fast.

- "Everything you can, Pamela." – his voice held a lot of anticipation, as if he was eager to find out what I actually could do. – "Or..." – he added with a smirk – "…everything you want"

I was silent, contemplating for a moment what to do. It was clear that he gave me the right to begin how I wanted. Whether he thought he will enjoy everything I would do, or he wanted to know what I liked. What did I want to do, actually? He looked so delicious… so sexy… the only thing sliding in my mind was to get him naked and lick every inch of him. I smiled. Well, maybe that was possible.

I look him in the eye again, and flashed the most devilish smirk I could muster. He returned it, anticipation now even more apparent in his gaze, as he sees I'm up to something. I toss his jacket aside, and then unbutton his shirt, all the while looking at him, never breaking the stare. I take his shirt out of his pants and he helps me get rid of it. His chest is bare now and I can't help but stare. He's fucking gorgeous!

I trail my hands over it, feeling the hard muscles beneath the soft skin. Like steel wrapped in velvet. I reach to his nipples and trace my fingernails over them and he moans at the feeling. Hmm… So he likes it rough, doesn't he? Then rough we play!

I kiss his neck and then go further down. I take one of his nipples in my mouth and suck on it. Hard. It elicits another moan from him, this time louder. I decide to push my luck, and I actually bite him… A little, sure not hard enough to draw blood, but it affects him nonetheless. He hisses in pain mixed with pleasure, his hand pulling my hair and tugging on it, forcing me into another kiss.

In a few moments, my corset is loose and my skirt is on the floor. How? How did he do that? I guess I'll have to get used to that speed… He cups my breasts now, massaging them and his mouth is on my neck, licking and nipping. His hands are everywhere, and it feels so good I just want to forget everything and let him do with me as he pleases, without interfering… But I won't be Pam if I would…

I let my hands roam down to the front of his pants, feeling his hardness through them. I began to stroke him, but not applying enough pressure to get him the friction he so evidently wanted. And then, when I was sure he didn't expect it, I squeezed him hard.

A snarl left his lips and I heard a click. I looked at him questionable, and then I saw them. His fangs. I should have been afraid, but… it felt so… _right_.

He was looking at me shamelessly, not at all afraid that I won't like them, or that I'll be afraid of them. He didn't say the words, but the message was clear: 'This is who I am. Take it or leave it.'

I looked at his fangs, then at his eyes, and then at the fangs again. God, he was even sexier this way! I lifted my free hand to his mouth and traced his lips shortly, only to go further and touch my fingertips to his little blades, while stroking him with the another hand. He growled and I felt him twitch behind his pants, like I had touched an extremely erogenous zone. He used his tongue to lick my finger, which, as strange as it was, made me dripping wet.

I let my hands roam down to unfasten his belt. I opened the button and poped the zipper down to free him from the confines of his pants. Oh. My. He was _huge_! I imagined he would be bigger than the norm, but this…

I grinned and took him in my hand, only to hear him hiss again. Mu fingers were still on his fangs, and from the reaction I was getting, I think this was somehow like a double stimulation for him.

I thought about something. I was playing with fire, I knew, but it didn't break my confidence. I made the decision, and traced my index finger along one of his fangs, much lower this time. When I reached the tip I pressed my finger up, drawing a little blood from it. His reaction was even better than I expected. He moaned aloud, licked the blood, then took my finger in his mouth and sucked it. He was twitching in my hand, leaking with pre-cum, and when he let go of my finger, I dropped to my knees to taste him. I flicked my tongue around his head and he shuddered. I then took his head in my mouth and sucked it, taking delight in his snarls and grunts, the sounds of a man in pleasure.

I knew he was holding back, fighting off his orgasm, and I had to admit he had a good control over it. Very good, actually. Even so, I knew it won't take much longer until he came. One more minute, and it will be over. I liked his taste this far, I liked it very much, and I looked forward to actually tasting him. But he had other plans, obliviously.

- "It's enough" – he said, his voice rough, yanking me up as gently as he could in that moment.

I was startled.

- "Were you not enjoying it?" – I asked, even if I knew the answer. I was a specialist in reading body language, and what I saw was very much looking like he was enjoying it.

- "Of course I was, Pamela." – he answered, shooting me a heated glare. – "But it's not fair that I'm the only one receiving pleasure tonight."

- "Don't be stupid!" – I said – "I enjoy it as much as you do." – and it was true. I never ever did enjoy doing this. For other men, that is.

He laughed at my statement, but did not change his mind.

- "I want to taste you." – I said, trying to convince him.

- "Oh, I'm delighted." – he had a devilish smirk on his face. – "But the problem is, I want to taste you as well."

I was silent, not knowing what to reply.

- "Now, Pamela, please lie on the bed and spread your legs for me, or I would do it for you instead."

His voice was soft like velvet, caring only the slightest hint of a threat. Surprisingly or not, that hint was the very thing that aroused her so much.

Now, what had she gotten herself into?

To be continued


	3. Feeling good

**A/N:** _I would like to thank you for all your reviews. It means so much for me to know you like what I write! This is the third chapter here. I don't own the characters, Allan Ball and Charlaine Harris do. Hope you like it. :)_

**Warnings:** This chapter contains a little scene of BDSM. If you don't like it or are not of the proper age, please don't read it.

**Chapter Three**

**Feeling good**

I looked at him with wide opened eyes, deciding what to do. I suspected from the first minute I saw him that he was dominating in bed. What I didn't suspect, was that I would enjoy it. Him dominating me. Me submitting.

What I was feeling was totally new to me. Never before have I been aroused with a client. A client was a client and desire was something that was not allowed to feel. Not that I could… most of the men that were coming didn't even attract me, let alone arouse me. Mr. Northman, however, was something entirely different. I wanted him, and, what was even more surprising, I wanted to pleasure him.

I made a little step, then another, finally reaching the bed and lying down. Though I had not seen nor heard when he moved beside me, he did. He took my remaining clothes off, so I was now lying there, absolutely naked, while he was, naked as well, standing beside the bed and watching me with a gaze so full of fire, it made me shudder.

He moved in front of me, letting me enjoy his straining muscles as he sat down near my still crossed legs. He stretched my legs open and I think I heard a snarl in his chest.

- "So fucking beautiful!" – he said, his voice hoarse with need and lust.

He lifted one of my legs and put it on his shoulder, then did the same with the other one.

- "You are wonderful, Pamela." – he whispered, and after that he leaned in and traced his tongue over my thigh, over and over, always closer to where I wanted it the most, but never quite reaching it. I moaned, pleased by his teasing, and arched off the bed. Just when I felt my control shudder, ready to beg him for more, I felt his cool tongue stroking my sensitive folds.

I groaned. It was too much. His presence, his proximity, his touch, his… his mouth on me… it was simply driving me _mad_.

- "You're so wet…" – he muttered, more to himself than to me, while I fisted the sheets in my hands. – "So soft…"

- "Please…" – I found myself begging – "Please, I can't take it anymore."

He continued, not paying attention to my words, licking slowly and languidly. My hand has moved from the bed and was now in his hair, pulling him closer. Ever closer. He picked up his pace and was now alternating between licking along the opening and sucking on my clit.

And then I felt his tongue entering me… stroking me from the inside. I cried out.

- "Eric!" – he was increasing his speed, doing things to me that I never thought possible. I was so close, and yet so far from my greatest pleasure…

In the meantime, he pushed two fingers inside, pumping them at a high speed that had my knees buckling and my eyes rolling back in my head. In some minutes, he had me writhing beneath him, screaming and begging for release.

- "_Feel_ me, Pamela." – he said – "Feel me inside and out of you. Feel me take your body and mind. Cum for me. _Now_!" – his erotic words and the way he curled his fingers inside me, hitting that wonderful spot inside had thrown me over the edge. I cried his name desperately, writhing and trembling from the pleasure I'd just experienced. Well, that was just… intense. I can't say my experience with men was limited, but I never, ever, _ever_, experienced something like this.

He was still licking slowly, which caused little aftershocks ripping through me, but then he stopped.

- "You taste fucking amazing! I nearly came then and there from your taste alone!" – he said, while standing up and coming to kiss me.

Now, if that wasn't an ego stroke, I don't know what was. He actually kissed me, and I tasted myself on him, feeling a new wave of desire flood through my veins. I looked down at him, his cock still leaking, and whispered:

- "I want to feel you inside me. Now."

- "I'm more than happy to oblige." – he replied, setting himself so that his hips were close to mine. – "Look in my eyes, Pamela." – he said, positioning himself at my entrance. – "Look at me while I enter!"

Even if I wanted, I'm sure I couldn't have denied him, so I did just what he said: I looked down, and the moment I did, he started to enter. Slowly. Maddening slowly. I had to grip his shoulders to steady myself, even if there was no need for that, because I was lying on my back. Pure pleasure ripped through me. It was as if every single cell in my body felt nothing beside the pleasure his actions induced. It was intense. _Intoxicating_.

It felt as eternity before he was the full way in. I closed my eyes and groaned at the feeling of him inside me – so long and thick, hard and soft at the same time. He then began to draw out, faster a little, but still maddening slowly. I closed my eyes for a moment, not being able to hold them open anymore, as the pleasure continued to rip through my body.

He drew my attention back and my eyes slid wide open, as he trusted inside me to the hilt, hard and fast. The sensation was more than I could bear. I watched him with surprise, his eyes boring right into mine, the look of pure determination lingering there.

- "I told you to look in my eyes." – he explained. – "Don't close them. I want you to look at me as I bring you to release."

His words increased my passion even more, if that was even possible. I wanted to answer him, but a nod was everything I could muster.

He smirked at me, obviously pleased that I was so smitten with him that I lost my ability to speak. Well, if that pleased him, it didn't bother me, as long as he moved. And he did.

His movements were not gentle, or affectionate. They were not the movements of a lover, but the movements of a predator, a predator who claimed his hunt. He was thrusting fast and hard, always increasing his speed, grunting all the time like an animal, but the thought of complaining didn't even cross my mind. I was enjoying this no less than he was. I liked his rough treatment, all of it: the fast thrusting, the rough way he massaged my breasts, the raw sounds of passion he was making, the way he kissed everywhere he could reach, his fangs scraping my skin lightly. Enjoying was a word that didn't even begin to describe what I felt. The intensity of the feeling made the other things I felt in my life fade in comparison to this. I knew without a doubt that after this night, my life will never be the same again.

My train of thought was lost, however, when his speed became superhuman, his hips only a blur now. I closed my eyes, totally forgetting about his request to look at him while I cum, and screamed. I came harder than ever before. I felt over the edge, literally, scraping my fingernails against his broad shoulders and screaming his name for good.

I expected him to follow after me, but he didn't. Instead, he used his vampire speed to switch our positions. Faster than I could react, I was on my hands and knees, with him thrusting from behind, his later speed not abating. I moaned aloud as new waves of pleasure shot through my body.

When his large palm landed on my ass, I didn't realize it did until the feel of sharp pain reached me. I cried out, analyzing what I felt with confusion. It didn't hurt much, as he quite obviously wasn't using all his power, but it hurt nonetheless. But, what did confuse me, was that it didn't drop my want for him. It did only increase it further. Since when had I become a masochist?

The thought remained un-answered as he brought the palm down on my ass once more.

- "I told you to look at me." – he said, his voice smooth and calm. It raised goose bumps on my neck, to hear him talk to me that way, and I wasn't entirely sure it was from fear. – "I told you I want to see you while you cum, and yet you chose to disobey me."

Another slap landed on my backside.

- "I'm… sorry…" – I muttered, not entirely sure of what I must say.

- "Sure you are." – he responded, rubbing his hand against my now red skin, while he never stopped nor slowed down his movements. – "Tell me how sorry you are!" – he demanded.

I was too far gone to deny him. The pleasure he was providing was clouding my mind, and everything I wanted was for him to fuck me hard and fast and to never stop.

- "I'm… very… sorry. I… swear!" – I said, trying to find words in the blinding pleasure I felt. His thrusting wasn't helping me much.

- "You are a very bad girl and you know it." – he said, accentuating his words with an extremely hard thrust. – "And bad girls get punished."

I could only groan at that, as the image of him spanking me appeared in my mind.

- "Do you want me to punish you, Pamela?" – his tone was playful, vacant of any cruelty. He was playing with me, and I knew he had no desire to actually hurt me.

- "Yes!" – I said, trying to play his game. – "Yes! I need you to punish me!"

I felt another slap land on my butt, and then another, and the whole time he was continuing to fuck me. His movements seemed more frantic now, as if he was struggling for control. I felt my walls begin to flutter around his cock, and I knew I was close, but he tugged on my hair, forcing my head up, so that I was now with my knees on the bead, with my back pressing flat to him. His hand was playing with my hair, tossing it to one side, baring my neck to him.

- "No-no-no." – he said in a mocking tone. – "You're not coming yet, little one. This is your punishment for disobeying me"

This was really too much.

- "Please… I can't stand it… I beg you, _please!"_

- "Tch, tch tch… I'll tell you when you're allowed to cum." – annoyed by my whimpers of protest, he continued – "If you disobey me this time as well, your punishment for this will be much more... _devastating_."

Deciding to believe him, I concentrated as much as I could on fighting off my orgasm. Damn it, he wasn't helping me on this part. His thrusts got even more frantic and rough, less controlled now, and I knew he was close himself.

- "Now!" – he shouted, and I came apart in his hands, screaming for all I was worth, as he roared his own release, shooting his seed deep inside my womb. He thrust his fangs in my neck, a grumble forming in his chest as he drank deeply, this, apparently, prolonging his orgasm as he shook once more. I came again.

It was long until I came back to my senses. His fangs were no longer inside my throat. He was licking the punctures his bite had created, one hand gently caressing my breast and the other fondling my hip.

- "That was… WOW!" – I wanted to say more, but I just couldn't find the words to describe it. He was still inside me, his cock still hard, but he wasn't moving. – "I've never thought it was possible to feel like that." – I said.

- "I'm glad you enjoyed it…" – he said, smirking, and in a second we switched positions once more. He was on his back now, with me on top of him, his hands on my hips as he guided me, thrusting inside me once more. "…but I'm far from done with you yet…"


End file.
